Mike Jenkins - Welsh Poet & Author
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HAPPY 20 th Y BEIRDD COCH!

9/20/2014

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   Thursday evening at The Imp in Pontmorlais, Merthyr should be a momentous one for Red Poets.
   Yes, we are 20 years old!
   Issue 20 is one I'm especially proud of and includes a number of writers making their first appearances like Ponty's Steve Hitchins and fellow Cardi Paul Steffan Jones.
   There's a posthumous poem from Alun Hughes, who was one of our most avid supporters and contributors down the years.
   We are featuring three Welsh language poems : from myself, Chris O'Neill and Meic Stephens ; the latter a letter-poem about the Merthyr Rising of 1831.
   Dave Lewis's cover photo is so arresting : a stark reminder of wreckage amongst the beauty of the Valleys.
   There are vital contributions from regulars like Tim Richards, Patrick Jones and Alun Rees.
   Enough of the plugging....I want to praise certain people who haven't had enough recognition during these 20 years.
   As well as my invaluable co-editor Marc Jones from Wrecsam
(who's responsible for all this in the first place with the original Red Poets' Society), a great deal of vital work in our early years was carried out by Alun Roberts and his wife Sian. Sadly they disappeared from the scene for a while, but have now returned and Sian has a poem in the forthcoming issue.
   I'm hoping Al Jones will make a comeback also.
   Hirwaun's Zen Buddhist tree-climbing Belgian beer officionado was a vital part of our team.
   He was the main chauffeur and referee when the discussions got heated on the way home (invariably about religion). I'll never forget his Zen theories in a rough pub in Port Talbot, claiming that we were all dead / alive at the same time!
  Al's black and white photos graced many covers and he soon came to write poems to accompany them.
  Now's the time for an Al Revival!
   My good butty Andrew Bartz
has been our trusted audience ( well, we needed someone!) and official heckler. He designed several covers and contributed many witty cartoons.
   Now, like others, he has taken to writing and ,hopefully, will have something in next year's one. His surrealist poetry and stories reflects his fascination with that art movement.
  He has been through very tough times of late : unemployed at present and with his benefit stopped twice.
  A truly talented and intelligent person who desperately wants to work, it's a real ConDemnation of our society that he has been treated so appallingly.
   Both Julie Pritchard ( making her third appearance in the next issue) and Debbie Price have been regular supporters and performers at events over the last few years and, like Merthyr-born John Williams, their energy and enthusiasm has been a joy to experience.
   In terms of music, Hastings and Pudner, Jamie Bevan and Barry Taylor have all added so much to our live performances (as opposed to previous dead ones!) giving us the chance for a singalong and much needed songs yn Cymraeg.
   It's been wonderful to realise that Red Poets can galvanise such writersand singers, even as we sadly lose the boundless creativity of the likes of Alun Hughes.
  
   This poem is based on Andrew's atrocious treatment . Although it's a fiction, it's close to what he's told me.



                               STOPPED  MY  BENEFIT


They stopped my benefit
an what ave I got
left to eat?
Two boggin tea-bags
an a tin o sardines
outa date!

Say I never
signed on, but
I know theyer
system's t blame ;
it's appened before
'Fuck off!' a-computer sayz.

I always woz a worker
ever since sixteen :
in factrees
I ad skills
an now I'm a nothin,
too ol f'r ev'ry job.

Lucky my landlor'
is a tidee bloke,
lucky I get adopted
in pubs by frens
buy me booze
take me with em.

Oo wan's somebuddy
cun draw cartoons,
cun tell yew anythin
bout blues, rock an folk?

They stopped my benefit
but carn stop my life :
gimme a pencil an a pint,
juke-box playin Neil Young,
jest gimme a book
an my ead'll be buzzin!

   

   
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When I Wake Up....let it be 'Alba'

9/18/2014

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   I sincerely hope that when I wake up tomorrow morning I'll be greeted with a resounding (or even, narrow) vote of 'YES' for Scotland.
   First thing I'll do will be to put on, not the rousing 'Cap In Hand' but Runrig's anthemic 'Alba' , which I played regularly in the 1980s.
   I'll be singing along with Donnie Munro on the chorus (he became a Labour politician, would you believe?) and pour myself a wee dram....of orange juice!
   Actually, I'm pessimistic. I feel that fear will triumph over hope and the abject negativity of the Naws with their top-down hectoring will prevail.
   But even if they just win, everything will have changed.
   The quite amazing groundswell of support for the 'Yes' campaign - especially from the young and the dispossessed, hitherto disenfranchised - has been a revelation.
   Alex Salmond  may well declare that he'll not seek another referendum in the foreseeable future, yet others may feel differently.
   The vision of an independent Scotland which rejects nuclear weapons, military invasions, destructive bedroom tax and crippling cuts will not easily go away.
   There have been so many excellent interviews and powerful speakers from the 'yes' side : Tommy Sheridan, Jim Sillars and Patrick Harvie to name but three.
   I was impressed by actor Alan Cumming also, who had the perfect retort for a reporter who queried him when he talked about threats to the NHS and education if there was a 'No'.
  Reporter : 'Surely, these have already been devolved?'
  Cumming : ' Yes, but they're dependent on Westminster finance. Without the money, they can't be run properly.'
   The idea that  Real Labour will be elected next Spring and deal with this ,as ludicrous George Galloway argued, is a delusion.
   Miliband's party are not only anti-Trade Unions , they are also pro-austerity. They will cut almost as much as the ConDems and their Councils have failed miserably to fight the cuts.
   As with Cymru, Scottish politics is very different from mainstream English concerns and only a government in Edinburgh can give expression to those distinctions.
   Though identity will not play a fundamental part in it, it's nevertheless interesting to see that younger people feel less tied to being British.
   This is totally understandable, as the idea of Britishness has so much to do with past wars and threats, with a wealth built out of Empire.
   It's also heartening to note the number of Asian Scots and English people living in Alba who've been active in the 'Yes' campaign.
   Identity has always been vital to me, even if it was buried deep in my subconscious.
   I only discovered people who called themselves 'British' when I went to live in n. Ireland in the 1970s.
   There the Loyalists flew their Union Jacks not just in cities and towns, but on many farms and fields : claiming ownership over land they had originally 'planted', driving off the Gaelic-speaking population.
  Their worship of the monarchy and fascistic attitude towards Irish Catholics (Paisley once described them as 'vermin', like a Nazi propaganda film about the Jews), represented a magnified version of what all British nationalism was about : ascendency, monarchy and jingoism.
   I lived in England for most of my school years, but never came to regard myself as 'English'.
   I did enjoy being part of a small village in East Anglia, though class distinctions were marked; the families of large landowners a separate breed.
  Everyone defined 'English' as 'British' there......the two interchangeable.
  I encountered the most appalling racism on a school trip to Aberystwyth and, looking back, wish I'd challenged it.
   My fellow pupils really believed the natives lived in caves and expected them to come down like bandits! Ironically, the very same kids looted the town shops on shop-lifting missions.
   Scotland, like Cymru, is generally a very open, inclusive society.....the very antithesis of the narrow UKIPers.
   Anyone who confuses Scottish nationalism with  British nationalism exemplified by the likes of Gordon Brown  - who supported the invasion of Iraq and gave bankers a free rein - is misguided. 'Yes' wants a peace-seeking country, where the banks are put in their place not rewarded.
   Much as I'd love Scotland to go further - nationalize oil companies, declare neutrality and reject the monarchy - I do believe a 'YES' tomorrow will be a huge step in the right direction.
   And, in Cymru, we need  a Bendigeidfran which is not one but millions : a movement to bridge the mountains.


                                  I  REMEMBER  ENGLAND


I remember England :
I lived there for years,
played tennis-racket guitar
with friends to the latest Beatles.

Soon learnt to talk posh
bin my crass Cardi accent
after it was mocked ;
talk country when parents divorced.

I admit I belonged for a while
among the daughters of factory workers,
the sons of farm labourers,
even an aspiring Tory Prime Minister.

Stacked away in drawers
I kept those early poems,
secretive and never crowned.
School once 'Cynddylan..', taken by sound.

Seasons of preened cricket greens
or cowpat footie fields ;
found in the wood's wild ways
sticks of Pen Dinas, wandering games.


Holidays in Barry and Aber,
childhood leaps of streets and sea ;
I returned, instinctively, to live there,
two parts of a broken family.
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BACK TO CCFC : GABBIDON AND ME

9/14/2014

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   Last week and a return to Cardiff City Stadium to conduct poetry workshops for the club and LitWales as part of the All Skilled Up project.
   Delighted to be back, as I'm sure were the others involved, Mike Church and Patrick Jones.
   Nothing and everything had changed.
   The fee had been cut drastically (writers get used to this, I'm afraid), but I was looking forward to working with children from two Primary schools.
   I breezed in like some ex-player rejoining (like Danny Gabbidon , in fact) and told the receptionist of my intentions.
   I confidently walked into the corridors only to find that the Community office had gone, replaced by the Finance Director's (shut). Trapped in the bowels of the ground I envisaged having to remain there till the weekend game, and Ole Gunnar Solskjaer finding me, so I'd have to tell him -
   'Listen up OGS, with all due respect....... you are clueless!
   Since you took over we've had no team spirit, organisation or tactical awareness. You've changed the team every game, then asked for consistency!'
   Of course, I wheedled my way out and ended up back at reception, like some annoying board game.......never got to meet Ole, or even Scott Young, who used to be head of the Community programme , but has moved on to training youngsters.
   I was fortunate to be sent to the wrong room, the Captain's, where I'd never been before and surrounded by large photos of our finest captains. Age kicked in, when I recalled watching many of them. Kav was one of my favourites......how we need someone like him now!
   Our proper venue was disappointing, as we used to work in the higher-up suites where pupils could gaze over the stadium and make notes for their poems. The meeting room was windowless,claustrophobic.
   Panic stations as there was no flip-chart, just a computer and screen which went AWOL for the afternoon session ; a bit like most of our players for the second half of last season!
   Yet the kids were tremendous : enthusiastic and imaginative, they volunteered many rhymes for Noone and Ralls, even Marshall and Scott Young (you really can't escape him).Though they asked me for ones for Dikgacoi.
  From the Bridgend area, they included a fair share of Swans' fans and one girl wrote a poem about a derby match where we were the red devils, while Swansea were 'angels in white' !
   But the Swans - for all their excellently-run club with 20% supporter ownership - don't have this particular project : a tour combined with writing workshop.
   The workshops do need a bit more time, especially after lunch and I do think their tour should take in the outside of the stadium as well.
  There is much to be seen : the Keenor statue and his extraordinary story, Bluebird gate and plaques, the memorial garden and , of course the pavement of bricks.
   Just a glimpse at those inscribed bricks will tell you how vital blue and Bluebirds are to the club's past. My son bought me one with 'Bluebirds' Poet' on it and I am so proud, even though it's a little faded.
   There are rumours on the messageboards of a change back to blue.
   I think it's possible, not for sentimental reasons or because Tan wants to win the fans support or create unity, but for simple commercial reasons.
   Everyone now buys retro shirts and scarfs, but nobody dons the red. Sales of new shirts must be at an all-time low. Can't be good for business!
   'Lucky red' meant relegation and is now causing panic and talk of Solskjaer being sacked.
   A return to blue would make sense on every level, as players who have left like Fraizer Campbell (whose goal celebration mocking Tan was the best of last season) and Mark Hudson have stated.
   One girl at my workshop sported her blue scarf and declared herself 'Blue, through and through! ' (note the rhyming).
   Workers at the ground in red looked as if they were wearing a company uniform (which, in a way, they were).
  Anyway, it was great to be back........me and Danny Gabbidon,eh?


                             RHYMING  SOLSKJAER


OLE  GUNNAR  SOLSKJAER...........

               summoning our ire
               making us into criers
               players without desire
               footie's looking tired
               tactics are dire
               appointed by Tan the Liar
               we are in a mire
               hopes soon in a pyre -
               Pulis is for hire,
               but.....will he be fired?
 
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CAPOEIRA  IN  SESIMBRA

9/11/2014

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Capoeira in Sesimbra
under the slatted shade
of a promenade shelter
in the afternoon blaze.


In the circle, the roda,
in white tunics of martial art
high kicking and swung limbs
but never a touching.


Grins and not threats,
the berimbau sets a rhythm
the calls and responses
of exotic birds, agility of dolphins.


Dance, clap and sing
in the circle of their world,
a bare-chested man handstands,
a child close-by mimicking.


Capoeira
in Sesimbra :
sound-patterns on Atlantic breeze,
a body-swirl, a street-swim,
a game that everyone wins.
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NATO SUMMIT - DIM CROESO

9/3/2014

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Protecting the warship at Cardiff Bay


The war-mongers
the world-carvers
the power-blockers

are coming
are coming
to our cities


warships in the Bay
helicopters over the Castle
metal stockades
dividing every roadway

the arms dealers
the drone fliers
the conflicters

are coming
are coming
to take over

machine-guns on the Hayes
riot helmets in Arcadia
bomb-sniffers in John Frost Square

the democracy protectors
the friendly-dictator supporters
the great contradictors

are coming
are coming
to Cymru

DIM   CROESO  I
RHYFELWYR!
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